


resisting my own defense

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Puppies, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24895639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Forisacabral, who said, and I quote, “I’d give my left boob for Bechloe getting a puppy.”Full prompt in end notes.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 29
Kudos: 182





	resisting my own defense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isacabral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isacabral/gifts).



> Title from Jax Jones ft. Ella Henderson's _This Is Real_.

It is not a part of Chloe’s job description, volunteering at the local animal shelter each weekend. Anyone to see the religious way she treats her voluntary sessions there, however—seriously, she essentially gives herself shifts—would beg to differ. Chloe really is just a bleeding heart for animals, as is evidenced by the small zoo Beca has found herself living amongst at she and Chloe’s shared home.

Beca is not much of an animal person, not really. But she knew what she was getting herself into when she agreed to set up home with a trainee veterinarian. Did she expect she and Chloe to still be living together years down the line? No, perhaps not, but Beca wouldn’t have it any other way… Well, okay, she would have it _one_ other way, but that is a story for another day, or so Beca tells herself regularly.

Regardless, despite her outward grumbles of dissatisfaction whenever Chloe comes home with yet another new addition to their setup, in reality, Beca isn’t actually _too_ put out. In fact, she would even go so far as to say she kind of _likes_ some of their four-legged roommates. Jimmy the turtle, for example, is a personal favorite of hers; he is incredibly low maintenance, and unlike Chloe’s three cats, he leaves her alone whenever she is trying to work.

The same way that the animal shelter is not a part of Chloe’s job description, however, it is also not in Beca’s roommate description to run along and help just because Chloe has called her in an obvious fluster, babbling about how they are a few volunteers down today and absolutely _swamped_ with new intakes.

But that is something to note about Beca Mitchell: she has never been able to say no to Chloe Beale.

Not when Chloe asked—no, _forced_ —Beca to sing with her in the literal _shower_ during Beca’s freshman year of college.

Not when Chloe asked if they could find an apartment together after their time at Barden University had ended, despite the fact that Beca had been painfully, irrevocably, _secretly_ in love with Chloe for four whole years, and had tricked herself into the fact that she was looking forward to graduating and moving away from Chloe, where she’d be able to finally get over those quietly torturous feelings.

Not when Chloe came home from work one day with a litter of abandoned, newborn kittens, nor when Chloe pouted so hard, fluttered her thick lashes so expertly, that it resulted in them eventually keeping three of the six in their already somewhat cramped apartment.

And not today, apparently, when she had answered Chloe’s call, the one that now sees Beca walking around two excitable, energetic pitbulls who don’t seem to understand how to walk without tugging on their leashes, while wearing one of Chloe’s shelter-provided shirts.

“Beca?” The distorted sound of Chloe’s muffled voice comes from the walkie strapped to Beca’s belt. It sounds mostly like static at first, but Beca thinks she can make out Chloe’s words as she continues, “Beca, do you read me? Come in, it’s Chloe.”

“Do you read me?” Beca mumbles to herself, brow arching a fraction as she fumbles with the looped handles of both leashes, attempting to shift them to the same hand, while also not letting the dogs pull her flat onto her face—it is a miracle she has remained upright this whole time, honestly.

“Beca?”

“Yeah, wait a sec,” Beca grumbles to essentially nobody, before finally retrieving the walkie from its hook. Quickly, she lifts it up toward her face, pushing the large button on the side. “Hey, yeah. I, uh, read you, Chlo…” she says into the receiver, frown of concentration wrinkling onto her face, “What’s up?”

“Good,” Chloe’s distorted voice comes again. “Just making sure you’re okay. Are the boys almost done with their walk?”

Beca finds herself staring at the device with a blank expression for half a second. “It’s not a walk, Chloe, it’s a battle,” she grumbles.

“What?”

Clearing her throat, Beca holds down the button again, before speaking as clearly as possible. “Yeah, almost done. We’re heading back now.”

“Okay, great. Over and out!”

Beca doesn’t even have the time to make fun of Chloe’s military-style seriousness, because the dogs are beginning to restlessly pull again, so Beca simply slots the walkie back into its belt loop, then does her best to focus on, again, remaining upright.

* * *

The same way that Chloe loves animals, they are apparently drawn naturally to her too, because the two unruly pitbulls seem to calm the second they come face to face with her. Instantly, they sit uniformly at her feet, both staring up at her with their long tongues sticking out of their mouths and their wild tails wagging joyfully.

“Were you both such good boys for Beca?” Chloe cooes in that ridiculous tone adults use when talking to babies or animals. Except, somehow it doesn’t _sound_ ridiculous coming from Chloe, but Beca shrugs off the thought. Chloe’s hand digs inside of her large pocket, before she produces two small treats. Each dog takes theirs and chews contentedly, and Beca stares at Chloe in obvious bewilderment.

“Okay, where were the magical _be-good_ treats while I was walking them?”

Chloe’s nose wrinkles somewhat comically in response, shoulder shrugging gently. “They’re just excitable. They love new people, and you’re a new person, that’s all,” she explains nonchalantly, as if that makes up for the way Beca’s arms have both basically been pulled from their sockets.

Biting back her own annoyance, Beca reaches up to rub helplessly at her aching shoulder as Chloe takes the leashes from her grasp. “Alright, so what now?” She questions, hopeful that her assistance is no longer needed. Beca doesn’t dislike animals, she doesn’t dislike being here, she just...has better things she could be doing, is all.

“Mm, I’ll let you know,” Chloe responds thoughtfully, beginning to lead the dogs toward their assigned kennels with much more ease than Beca had previously experienced. “Just wait here, I’ll be right back.”

That is not the answer Beca had been hoping for, but regardless, she finds herself nodding along in acknowledgment, the whole time suppressing what she is sure would likely be a loud, overly dramatic sigh were it to fall.

Unsurprisingly, the shelter gets a lot of visitors; Beca has been here less than an hour and she has already seen a bunch of different faces entering the building to go fawn over the abandoned animals. She cannot help but wonder how many of them actually leave having adopted one, or if they are just here for their daily dose of cuteness.

Not that Beca cares, _obviously_.

Considering this is her first—and hopefully last—time helping out, Beca is not trained to deal with the people coming in (she is not trained in anything, in fact), so it catches her off guard when she feels a timid tap on her shoulder, followed by a quiet, “Um, excuse me?”

Attempting an entirely unnatural customer service face, Beca whirls around to greet whoever may be addressing her, ready to explain to them that someone more qualified than her will be along to help them shortly. She is met by the sight of an unfamiliar teen, whose brown eyes drift down toward the shirt emblazoned with the shelter’s name and logo, before her initially nervous stance seems to ease some.

“I was just driving, and I saw these at the side of the road,” the nameless teenage girl explains meekly, motioning down to the small box held tightly in both hands.

While Beca’s gaze moves down toward the box momentarily, she asks in something of a dumb tone, “What is it?”

“Puppies,” the girl explains simply, cautiously lifting the loose flap from the top of the box to reveal a whole litter—are they even called litters?—of what look to Beca to be newborn rats. “I called my dad to see what I should do, and he said to bring them here. I would’ve just taken them home, but our landlord doesn’t allow pets.”

“Oh…” Beca says in something similar to confusion. “Uh—”

“Hi!” Chloe’s voice sounds from behind her, the sound of approaching footsteps instantly helping Beca’s tensed shoulders to relax. She zones in on the box as soon as she is standing close enough to do so, and Beca ignores the chill to course through her body beneath the feeling of Chloe’s delicate squeeze to her upper arm. “What do we have here?”

“Rat puppies,” Beca responds with a frown.

She notes the way the younger girl chuckles quietly, before correcting, “Um, just puppies.” She proceeds to explain to Chloe the same story Beca has already heard, and Beca finds herself unintentionally watching—no, _studying_ —Chloe’s concerned response.

Beca does that a lot really: studies Chloe. Not that she’ll admit so, of course.

Still, she registers the way Chloe’s cheerful expression falls to one of genuine distress, the way her bright eyes widen in obvious sadness. Chloe really is the best type of person; she’s so caring and so genuinely _good_ , Beca cannot help but feel so in awe of her every day. Even more so now, she notes.

“You did the right thing bringing them here,” Chloe reassures the still somewhat shaken looking teenager. “And there were no other dogs around? It was just the puppies?”

“Just the puppies,” the teen explains, cautiously handing over the box as Chloe retrieves it carefully from her protective hold.

Unsurprisingly, Beca zones out of the conversation, likely because she is too focused on watching the naturally nurturing expression on Chloe’s face as she peers into the box. The teen eventually leaves, though, and Beca is instructed to stay where she is in the entranceway to greet any newcomers, while Chloe takes the puppies to whoever is in charge.

There is something somewhat skittish, not unlike the frightened newborn puppies, Beca cannot help but note, about Chloe for the rest of the day.

* * *

Beca is only needed for a few hours, something her aching arms are very much grateful for; she isn’t sure she even has the capacity to walk another energetic dog around the shelter’s exercise yard. Regardless of her initial complaints, she has to admit, at least to herself, that it was kind of cool to get to see the way things work at the shelter, and seeing Chloe interacting with all of the animals was way more adorable than Beca will ever openly voice.

But, she is definitely ready to go home, even if that does mean two of Chloe’s three cats—the third genuinely hates her—bugging her until Chloe eventually returns. Apparently, she has brought home a million new intriguing scents from the shelter, as evidenced by the curious felines, so despite showering, Beca doesn’t manage to shake them until Chloe’s arrival.

“Bec?” She hears Chloe’s muffled voice from the doorway once that time eventually comes—as do the cats, whose ears prick up curiously in response. “Can you come here for a sec?”

With a quizzical frown on her face, Beca pushes herself up from the comfort of the couch where she had previously been curled with her laptop, then makes her way, entirely unassuming, to the door.

It takes a second for her to register just why there is a look of quiet remorse on Chloe’s face at first, though Beca’s gaze is soon dropping to the box held carefully in her hands, and Beca knows instantly what is going on.

“Chloe,” Beca says through a long sigh, fingers running almost frustratedly through her hair. It doesn’t matter that she _knows_ , she still asks, “What is that?”

“They need twenty-four hour care,” Chloe explains as she slips through the door and past Beca, who instinctively closes it behind her. “Some of them have barely opened their eyes yet.”

Her own eyes closing momentarily, Beca leans back against the hardwood, being sure to take a centering breath, before finally pushing herself up to follow Chloe further into the apartment.

“Okay,” Beca nods slowly, arms folding across her middle. Her tone is already a defeated one; she knows that it doesn’t matter what she says, Chloe’s mind is made up already. Still, she tries. “But what are they doing _here_?”

Having made her way into the kitchen, Chloe carefully sets the box down on the first available counter space, delicately shooing the cats away as they prowl over to check out their new arrivals. “They can’t stay at the shelter,” Chloe continues in a very matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Puppies are dependent on their mothers, especially for the first couple weeks. And they don’t have one, so they need someone to take care of them.”

By now, Beca has leaned against the kitchen door frame, brows tugged tightly together as her blank stare fixes itself on Chloe. “And I suppose that someone’s going to be you?”

Reaching cautiously into the now open box, Chloe dips a hand inside to delicately scoop up one of the puppies, and in Chloe’s palm, Beca can see how truly tiny he or she is. Her stare moves from the puppy and up to Chloe’s face, though, just in time to see her expression. “Well…”

“No,” Beca shakes her head immediately, voice instantly coming out whiny and petulant, “Chlo, no, I don’t have time to help you take care of more baby animals.”

Chloe exhales a small sigh through her nose, lifting the puppy closer up toward her face. With her free hand, she softly brushes her pointer over the top of the dog’s head, studying it with an adoring gaze, one that quietly makes Beca melt—again, not that she’ll admit it. “I know,” Chloe murmurs quietly, “I know that you’re super busy, but you work from home, and I need someone to take care of them for a couple hours while I’m in class.” Eventually, Chloe’s wide, pleading gaze drifts slowly toward Beca, to where she is still standing in the doorway, and if Beca could force herself to look away, she would. “Please, Bec?” That signature pout, the one Beca can never resist, juts out onto Chloe’s lips. “I’ll come home between classes, and I’ll do all of the night feeds.”

One day, Beca is really going to have to learn to say no to Chloe Beale.

Evidently, she realizes as a triumphant grin spreads across Chloe’s lips, that day is not going to be today.

* * *

“What do you think we should name them?” Chloe asks casually once they have relocated the puppies to Chloe’s bedroom, safely away from the still entirely too curious cats. Beca has a feeling she is going to be _blessed_ with their presence tonight, since they won’t be allowed in their usual spot, curled up on the end of Chloe’s bed. Chloe sits on the floor with her legs crossed pretzel style, damp hair tugged back into a ponytail, and reaches into the box to scoop up a puppy.

Beca, sitting across from her, wrinkles her nose in response. “We’re not naming them. You get too attached when we do that,” she responds adamantly.

“They have to have names, Bec,” Chloe chuckles quietly, “How are we supposed to know who’s who if not?”

All Beca can do in response is gently purse her lips, though much like the cats, curiosity eventually gets the better of her, and she finds herself reaching into the box to carefully pick up a puppy. “I don’t know,” she finally says with a small shrug, gaze instantly moving to the dog as it curls up in her palm. “But you promised you wouldn’t get attached to the cats, then you named them and now look where we are.”

“Right,” Chloe nods, though her attention is mostly on the puppy in her hand, “And I stand by the fact that Marie, Toulouse and Berlioz are excellent additions to the family.”

In spite of herself, Beca cannot help the way she softens some at that, mostly at the idea of Chloe referring to them as a _family_. So much so that she finds herself laughing, albeit under her breath. She straightens up eventually, however, studying the puppy in her palm. “You know we really can’t keep any of these, though, right? The apartment’s barely big enough for us, we don’t have the space for more animals.”

“But look how tiny they are,” Chloe cooes, stretching out her hand to show the puppy she is holding to Beca with an exaggerated pout. “They don’t take up much room.”

Although Beca chuckles softly, eyes rolling in a playful manner, she quickly shakes her head. “I’m serious, Chlo.”

Despite her small sigh, the way her shoulders slump slightly, Chloe eventually nods in understanding. “I know, we’ll rehome them once they’re old enough.”

Beca is sure that will be a conversation for another day. For now, she finds that, in spite of the fact that she really does not want them here, she cannot help but be somewhat drawn in by the animal currently sprawled across her palm. The breed is still undetermined, but whatever it is, Beca has to admit silently that it’s pretty cute, especially the way its tiny mouth widens into a small yawn.

With a look of concentration, Beca lifts the puppy closer to her face, eyes squinting as if that will help at all. “So, what are you?”

Instantly, Chloe reaches out to carefully take the puppy from Beca’s hand. Slowly, she flips it over, before handing it back over to Beca. “Boy,” she determines, rolling the one in her own hand over, too. Her voice shifts to that baby-pet voice again. “And this little cutie is a girl.”

In total, there are four puppies; two less than the amount of kittens they’d been landed with. Upon inspection, Chloe announces that three of them are girls, which means the only brother is the one currently curled comfortably in Beca’s palm. The three girl puppies, meanwhile, are all resting in Chloe’s lap, already looking far too at home for Beca’s comfort.

“Can’t we just call them boy, girl one, girl two and girl three?” Beca questions, peering quizzically into the now empty box, just to make absolutely certain they are not about to be surprised by another one hiding in the corner or something.

“I don’t know,” Chloe frowns, “That sounds kind of _Bird Box_.”

Beca hates that she understands the reference.

“How about 101 Dalmation names? Since the cats are named after the Aristocats,” Chloe offers, focus down on the puppies sleeping in her lap.

“So we’re in agreement about not giving them names then,” Beca grumbles sarcastically. Not that it matters; she can already see the cogs turning in Chloe’s mind.

Chloe shoots a playful scowl Beca’s way, and Beca simply shakes her head, before glancing down at the boy puppy as he shuffles in her hand.

“Okay, you can be Lucky, since you look like the runt of the litter,” Chloe says decisively, running her fingertip lightly over the smallest puppy’s head. Her attention moves to the larger puppy next. “Perdita, since you’re the biggest…” Before, finally, “And you can be Penny, since that’s the only other one I remember right now. How about yours, Bec?”

“Mine?” Beca questions, brow lifting automatically.

“The one you’re holding,” Chloe corrects, “Pongo?”

Instantly, Beca shakes her head, face wrinkling into a disgusted expression. “You want to name a brother and sister Perdita and Pongo? That’s, like, I don’t know...incest or something.”

Her gaze is focused intently on the puppy, but Beca can see Chloe from the corner of her eye, she can see the way her lips have curved into an amused smile. “You know, I never really had you down for a 101 Dalmations fan.”

“I’m not a _fan_ ,” Beca protests quickly, “Everyone knows their names. It’s just common knowledge.”

“Mhm, right,” Chloe nods, and Beca ignores the level of amusement sounding through her tone. “So, what are we naming him?”

Why Beca is even entertaining this, she really doesn’t know. Regardless, she finds herself lifting the puppy toward her face again, eyes focusing on the way his legs continuously twitch, almost like, if he were bigger and had more control of his limbs, he’d be sleep-running. “Not Pongo,” she insists, thinking quietly for a moment longer, before deciding, “He can be Bolt.”

“Bolt?” Chloe questions, that same level of amusement still evident in her tone. “That another Disney movie you’re a fan of?”

Beca sucks in her cheeks, gaze moving from the puppy and over toward Chloe. The look of triumph on her face pulls a frown onto Beca’s. “Shut up.”

“Beca,” Chloe whispers, brows rising and falling playfully as she leans slightly closer, “Zoom zoom.”

* * *

Although Chloe doesn’t ask for her help, Beca finds that she cannot rest properly that night. It is likely because she can hear Chloe getting up every couple hours to prepare milk for the scheduled feeds, so eventually Beca resigns herself to the fact that she will not be sleeping. She is seated on Chloe’s bed by the time Chloe returns, fresh syringes of puppy milk clutched in both hands.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says in a sincerely apologetic tone, eyes landing on Beca’s tired form, “Did I wake you?”

Beca shakes her head, responding through a long yawn. “No, I just couldn’t sleep,” she says, holding out her hand to accept one of the syringes. “Here, give me one of them.”

“You’re gonna help?” Chloe beams, pleasant surprise evident in her tone.

All Beca does is shrug in response, before lazily reaching into the box to grab a puppy.

“You’re pretty drawn to Bolt already, huh?” Chloe smirks, a look that pulls an instantly disgruntled frown to Beca’s face.

“What?”

“You have Bolt,” Chloe points out, motioning toward the puppy now held carefully in Beca’s hands.

“How can you even tell?” Beca questions in confusion, tired eyes squinting down at the puppy.

“They have different markings,” Chloe shrugs, stretching over to hand Beca one of the milk syringes.

It isn’t intentional, the fact that Beca has picked up the same puppy from before. He was just the closest one to her, that was all. She is adamantly not _drawn to him_ , nor does she have any form of affectionate bond with him. He is, she silently notes again, very cute, however.

Not that that matters.

“Alright, you remember the way we fed the kittens? It’s pretty much just the same as that,” Chloe explains, repositioning the puppy she is holding—Beca has no idea which one it is, other than the fact that it is not Bolt—to hold the end of the syringe to its mouth. “Just wiggle it around a little bit and let him find it, then push the plunger slowly once he’s latched on.”

Momentarily, Beca watches Chloe, and mentally convinces herself she is just watching to make sure she has an example of how to feed the dog the right way. Realistically, however, with her sleep matted hair and wide yet tired looking eyes, that adorable look of sheer peacefulness that takes over her as she looks down at the now feeding puppy, there is just something so distracting about Chloe, something that Beca cannot help but want to look at.

“Are you going to feed him?” Chloe eventually asks quietly without looking up.

Rather than respond, or awkwardly attempt to come up with some excuse as to why she is staring, Beca simply clears her throat, before focusing on the puppy.

She doesn’t see the way Chloe’s lips curl upward at the corners, nor the way Chloe proceeds to silently watch her, too.

* * *

Chloe holds up her end of the bargain. As promised, she really does take all of the night feeds, and she does come home every day between classes to tend to the puppies. However, it just so happens that Beca kind of struggles to sleep, knowing that Chloe is bustling about their apartment and trying her best to stay quiet while doing so, and that she _chooses_ to help out with the night feeds and between Chloe’s classes, too.

Raising puppies, Beca learns quickly, is _exhausting_ , especially once they finally find their feet. If she thought the kittens had been energetic, that was nothing in comparison to the puppies, three of whom love to yelp and run around the apartment in excitement when anybody so much as breathes.

Bolt, on the other hand, named for his zoomy legs, turns out to be kind of lazy, and for some reason infatuated by Beca. Each has their own personality—something Beca hates to admit to, considering they are dogs—and Bolt is by far the most chilled out of the four. Sure, he’s playful, but unlike his sisters, he likes to sprawl out lazily on his own and snooze in the middle of the day, even more so when Beca’s music is quietly playing. He seems to like Berlioz, too, the laziest of Chloe’s three cats—the one that literally hates Beca, but that has taken to spending more time around her as of late, presumably just because Bolt does. In fact, Beca even finds herself absentmindedly pulling her phone from her pants pocket one afternoon and snapping a picture of the two animals curled up asleep on the couch together.

It isn’t until she finds herself not only studying the picture, but also _smiling_ at it, that Beca eventually wrinkles her nose and decides to delete it. Not before sending it to Chloe, of course.

By now, the puppies have moved onto food bowls, and no longer require scheduled bottle feeds, but that does not mean Beca and Chloe’s nights suddenly go back to normal. Quite the opposite, in fact. Apparently Lucky, Perdita and Penny have a newfound, endless supply of energy, and they spend the night times running around just as excitedly as they do during the day.

Although, officially, their bedroom is Chloe’s bedroom, Beca still hears them from her own room across the hall, so it really doesn’t surprise her when, one evening, even animal-obsessed Chloe finally seems to crack.

Without knocking, partially probably because she is tired, and partially probably just because she is Chloe, Chloe pushes open Beca’s bedroom door late into the night, lips pushed out into an exaggerated pout. “Can I please sleep in here tonight?” She whines sleepily, already trudging into the room without invitation nor Beca’s say so. She drags her own pillow along with her, and looks every bit the overly exhausted mother.

While Beca chuckles quietly in response, without question, she immediately shuffles over to lift the comforter for Chloe to climb in beside her. “Dogs keeping you up, huh?”

All Chloe does is groan in response, before lazily flopping down onto the free side of Beca’s bed.

It has been a long time since they were in this position, the two of them literally sharing a bed. In their first apartment, the one they shared with Amy for a little while, the sleeping arrangements had seen them exclusively sleeping side by side. The five months before Amy decided to move in with her boyfriend of the moment had been torturous for Beca. Sleeping beside Chloe every night, feeling the way her arm would stretch out to drape lazily over Beca’s middle in her sleep, hearing the rhythmic sound of her sleep heavy breathing, it really had been sheer torture, because God, all Beca had wanted to do was flip over and wrap her arm around Chloe in return. So many nights, she’d laid awake picturing how it would feel to really cuddle up with Chloe, to feel their bodies slotting so easily together.

She would like to say it has been a long time since she has thought about it, but Beca would only be lying to herself in doing so. However, with Chloe laid beside her now, Beca can feel that desperate longing creeping up on her so strongly all over again. In fact, she can feel it tenfold.

And God, Beca wanted to be over this by now; she wanted to be over _Chloe_ by now, but as Chloe turns lazily onto her side with her back toward Beca, the curves of her exposed shoulders so familiar beneath the thin straps of her shirt, all Beca can think about doing is shuffling closer and tucking Chloe’s body into her own.

Of course, she doesn’t, and instead just swallows down her feelings, the same way she always does, before lowering to sink her head back into her own pillow.

It would be fine if it was just a one time thing, Beca thinks. No, she _knows_ it would be fine if it was just a one time thing; she can handle one night or torture for the sake of Chloe managing to get a little sleep without the puppies to annoy her.

However, a week later, and Beca has learned that it is decidedly _not_ just a one time thing.

By now, Chloe doesn’t even attempt to sleep in her own room. Instead, she gets the puppies settled in her bedroom with an abundance of blankets and fresh water for the night, then automatically shuffles across the hall and to Beca’s room, where she makes herself comfortable in Beca’s bed without invitation.

Beca, of course, does nothing to stop her.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, did I?” Chloe begins cheerfully one evening as she slots comfortably into position on what she has clearly claimed as her side of the bed. Beca glances up at her with knitted brows, before Chloe continues, “Jodie from the shelter wants one of the dogs.”

Considering how tiny they’d been when they had first arrived at their apartment, it is almost difficult for Beca to think of the fact that they are old enough now to finally be rehomed. Not that she is complaining; she adamantly does not want to keep four puppies, nor do she and Chloe have the space to do so. Head tilting slightly, she stares at Chloe in pleasant surprise. “You seem...more okay with that than I’d expect you to be,” she points out.

“Mm, I am,” Chloe hums as she settles back against the pillows behind her. “I mean, it’s gonna suck to see them go, but it’s like you said, we don’t have the space.” Her voice quietens some, dropping to an almost sheepish level. “Plus, I’m sure you want your bed back to yourself, huh?”

 _Yes_ , a part of Beca internally screams. _Yes, I want my bed back. I want you out of it so I don’t have to lay awake every night, desperately wishing I could pull you closer_. However, a larger part of her, one that she truly cannot explain, responds with a silent, desperate _no. God, no_.

Outwardly, of course, Beca simply shrugs a shoulder, opting not to answer the question, and instead to easily change the subject. “Which one does she want?”

“One of the girls,” Chloe says through a soft yawn. “I don’t think she really cares which, but she has a girl dog already, so I think she just thinks another girl would be the easiest option.”

While Beca simply nods her head in acknowledgment, a part of her, perhaps that same part of her inwardly battling with her response over Chloe going back to her own bed, breathes an inexplicable sigh of relief.

It isn’t until the following day, when Beca is curled up on the couch with her laptop resting in her lap, that she realizes exactly why.

Quietly, she registers the pitter patter sound of tiny paws scurrying over to join her, followed by a small bark that sounds by her feet a moment later. Instinctively, Beca pushes her laptop aside and leans down to be met by wide, determined eyes, and the sight of Bolt both trying and failing to hop up onto the couch.

“Hey, buddy,” Beca says quietly, biting back a small chuckle as she watches the dog a moment longer, before eventually leaning down to scoop him up. They are still not entirely sure of their breeds, but whatever they are, they have little legs, so climbing onto the couch is always a defeating task.

With the dog now standing on the couch beside her, tail wagging and front paws resting against her thigh, all hope of Beca concentrating on her screen is gone, and instead she finds herself smirking at the adorable way Bolt so effortlessly commands her attention. “You know, you really are pretty damn cute,” she murmurs, reaching over to delicately scoop the small dog up in both hands. Beca Mitchell truly never thought she would see the day she would be talking to a dog, much less telling it she thought it was _cute_ , but here she is, and for some reason, she is not even questioning herself.

Her lips curl upward slightly, soft sigh exhaling through her nose. “In fact, can I tell you a secret?” Carefully, she lifts Bolt up toward her face, amusement cracking onto her features at the way his short legs dangle right there from her hands. His wide eyes, a hypnotizing deep brown color, stare at her face, and Beca continues in a quiet, secretive tone, “You’re my favorite.”

It is like something from a cartoon, the way the mental montage flashes right there before Beca’s eyes. With Bolt held protectively in her hands, she is transported back to the day Chloe brought the puppies home, and Beca picked the very same puppy up from the crinkled box in which he and his sisters had been abandoned. Mentally, she sees him lying in her lap, too tiny to even open his eyes, with Beca first syringe feeding him, then bottle feeding him as time went by. She thinks about the warmth of his fur as he curls up against her hand, the same way he has done many times before, while Beca is trying to work, and a sad kind of smile curves its way onto Beca’s lips.

It is the quiet sound of a soft bark, unmistakably Bolt’s, that pulls her back to the present, and Beca finds herself staring into slowly blinking brown eyes. She doesn’t mean to sigh the way she does, nor for her words to come out in such a sad sounding tone once she has placed him carefully down in her lap, but they do. “Can I tell you another secret?” Beca mumbles quietly, lips pursing and fingertips scratching softly behind his ear. “I don’t really want you to go.”

* * *

It is fortunate—or perhaps it is unfortunate depending, considering the more time Bolt spends with them, the more deeply attached Beca quietly grows—that only two people claim the puppies. Chloe’s shelter friend, Jodie, takes Perdita, while another acquaintance takes both Lucky and Penny, which leaves Bolt the only one still waiting to be rehomed.

A part of Beca, the attached part, feels kind of bad for him; she can’t imagine anyone _not_ wanting arguably the world’s sweetest dog. While the other part, perhaps the even more attached part, finds that she is relieved each time Chloe returns home from school or work without news that somebody has asked to take him.

Maybe it is stupid, considering he is literally a dog, but Beca cannot help but feel some kind of kinship to him. With his independence, his lax nature, and his apparent appreciation for Beca’s music, he kind of reminds her of an animal version of herself.

(Beca has no idea that his determination, coupled with his adorable face and the need she feels to be around him all the time, reminds Chloe of her, too.)

By now, with only the one puppy to take care of, Chloe has moved back to her own bedroom, and the empty space left behind at Chloe’s self-appointed side of the bed causes a few conflicting feelings to well up inside of Beca. A part of her is relieved, because she can finally sleep at night without desperately wishing she could pull Chloe closer, without studying the smooth curves of her body as it moves in time with her soft breathing beneath the comforter.

The other part of her, however, misses her. Sure, Chloe may only be across the hall, but Beca has grown to learn that she misses her. It is a sinking feeling she wakes to with the bright morning light one morning, with Chloe already gone for her day of classes.

Despite the obnoxious sunlight, it is a faint scratching at the door that rouses her from her slumber, the cause of which Beca scoops up as she opens up to reveal those large brown eyes, and despite her no pets in the bed rule, she finds herself carrying him back onto the mattress with her.

Seated upright, but settled back against the propped up pillows, Beca grins to herself as she watches Bolt digging around in the blanket, trying to build himself his own little nest, though pulls her attention away to check the incoming text message notification to sound from her phone.

**Chloe  
** _Hey, I think someone wants Bolt!_

Instantly, Beca’s heart drops.

* * *

Beca had never wanted the puppies, she really hadn’t. And she was right before, they really don’t have a big enough apartment for everybody already, so adding in an additional pet makes no sense. However, as she lays awake that night, Chloe’s side of the bed empty, she cannot help but note the overwhelming feeling of sadness that consumes her at the prospect of giving up the final dog, the one Beca had secretly become so attached to right away.

Despite the fact that she tries her hardest to sleep, she cannot ignore the sight of Chloe’s light across the hall spilling in beneath the crack in the door.

Chloe has a busy life, what with work placements, attending classes _and_ volunteering at the shelter on the weekends, so normally she sleeps pretty easily. It strikes Beca as unusual that she would still be awake at this late time of the night, so much so that Beca finds herself curiously peeling her body from the comfort of her bed to tiptoe across the hall in search of some answers.

It is not until she approaches Chloe’s door that she hears the sound of what she thinks is sniffling, and Beca’s brows instantly tug together in a mixture of both concern and confusion.

“Chlo?” She says quietly, knocking softly against the wood of the door, before cautiously opening it up.

Chloe’s back is to her, but she notes the way Bolt’s ears prick up from behind Chloe’s petite frame.

“Hey, are you okay?” Beca questions in a gentle tone, slowly approaching the bed.

Immediately, Chloe lifts her hand toward her face, and Beca can see the way she is swatting at fallen tears. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” she lies, voice choked up and sad sounding. Regardless, Chloe twists her body until she can sit herself upright, flashing as convincing a smile as possible toward Beca.

Less confused and more concerned, Beca perches down on the edge of Chloe’s mattress. “You’re crying, you’re not fine,” she points out delicately. Bolt begins to crawl into Chloe’s lap, so Beca’s hand instinctively stretches out to scratch behind his ears, though her gaze remains locked on Chloe. “What’s going on?”

Beca has experienced it herself before, the way it is easy to hold back tears until someone asks what’s wrong, and suddenly the floodgates crash back open. The same happens to Chloe, and Beca’s expression softens as she watches Chloe’s hands rise to cover her tear-stained face.

“Hey, Chlo,” Beca just above whispers, scooting a little closer. Her free hand, the one not petting Bolt, rests on Chloe’s thigh, with Beca giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. “What is it?”

Chloe’s head shakes gently, words muffled by her hands. “It’s stupid,” she says through a somehow sad sounding laugh. “It’s the dog, I’m just really gonna miss him.”

Like Chloe, Beca cannot help her soft chuckle as Chloe pulls the barrier that is her hands from her face. Again, like Chloe’s, Beca’s laugh is sad sounding, too. “That’s not stupid, Chlo,” Beca reassures in a soft tone, hand moving from her thigh to instead reach up and brush away the tears from Chloe’s cheeks with the pads of her fingers. “I actually didn’t realize you were so attached to him.”

Chloe’s sad smile is coupled by a soft shrug of her shoulders. “I am. He sleeps in my bed, and he’s there when you’re not,” tears spill over Chloe’s lids as she speaks, voice choking up further, “And I’m gonna have to sleep alone again when he’s gone, and then I’m just gonna have to miss you even more.”

Despite the concentration on her face, Beca’s brows tug softly together at that, and she cannot help but wonder if she has even heard her correctly. Silently, her eyes search Chloe’s expression for a moment. “What?”

The way Chloe stares at her in response wordlessly asks Beca, _isn’t it obvious?_ , before she finally speaks aloud, “Bec, this dog is basically the animal version of you.”

“Yeah,” Beca says in that same soft tone of voice, though her words are delivered a little more dumbly, “So?”

“So…” Chloe states, still entirely choked up. It is perhaps because she is upset and not thinking with a filter, or again, maybe it is just because she is Chloe, but she rambles unbiddenly, “I miss sleeping beside you, Beca. I miss falling asleep with you, and I miss waking up and looking over to see you right there with me.”

Although Beca opens her mouth to respond, to contribute _something_ , it seems that nothing comes out. So, instead she just stares, just watches Chloe with wide, sad, _realizing_ eyes, and the way Chloe stares helplessly back at her speaks the words neither necessarily needs to voice aloud.

Quietly, without invitation nor asking for verbal permission, Beca shuffles until she can slot onto the mattress beside Chloe. Easily, Chloe scoots over, until Beca is wriggling beneath the comforter beside her, Chloe’s body pressed up so closely to her own that Beca can hear her own heart beating in her ears.

She doesn’t know what this means, doesn’t have that actual, spoken confirmation, but Beca is pretty sure. By the way Chloe curls into her, the way her own arm wraps instinctively around Chloe’s body, Beca is pretty sure that she is receiving what Chloe is silently saying.

For a moment, she just stares down at the dog perched comfortably in Chloe’s lap, Beca’s fingertips softly brushing over the bare skin of her upper arm. “So, let’s keep him,” she finally says, the feeling of Chloe stiffening up slightly registering with her quickly.

“What? But you said—”

“I know,” Beca nods her head gently, “I know what I said, but he’s been here this whole time, and one puppy is way less work than four.”

By now, Chloe’s face has turned to stare up toward Beca’s, and Beca takes note of the smile stretching its way onto Chloe’s lips. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Beca nods, adamant stare down on Chloe’s face, blue gaze locked with even more familiar blue.

There are new tears in Chloe’s eyes, they glisten and make them pop even more brightly somehow, but a soft chuckle falls from her mouth now, too. Beca finds herself watching Chloe’s lips, watching the way they curve upward so invitingly. And she thinks she sees her leaning in. Beca is so lost in her thoughts, so consumed by the fantasy that maybe Chloe feels what she is feeling too, that she has herself convinced that Chloe is moving closer, until the feeling of a soft palm delicately cupping her cheek, slightly parted lips pressing firmly to her own, sobers her to reality.

“I knew you were attached to him,” Chloe murmurs against Beca’s lips in a soft kiss that Beca finds herself eagerly returning.

Beca is silent at first, too captivated by what is somehow really, _finally_ happening. “Yeah, well,” she eventually whispers, teeth sinking into her bottom lip once Chloe pulls slightly back. She can feel the way her cheeks have heated up, knows they are tinged with a deep shade of red beneath Chloe’s non-judgmental stare. Beca tries her hardest to bite back the smile that tugs at her lips, but she sees it mirrored back from Chloe’s face in return. Semi-awkwardly, Beca lifts a hand to push a chunk of brunette hair behind her ear, asking half cautiously, half hopefully, through another small laugh, “Uh, what just...happened here?”

In response, Chloe’s mouth curves upward into a brighter grin, and Beca finds herself studying it again as Chloe leans closer, own lips parting to easily reciprocate the incoming kiss. “We just decided to keep our dog,” Chloe says, hand shifting from Beca’s cheek around to the back of her neck as she murmurs softly into the kiss, “And I think there’s probably another conversation we need to have soon, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for prompts, and Isa responded with "i'd give my left boob for bechloe getting a puppy. like, volunteering at a shelter and then getting a litter of puppies or kittens and just!!! how do they let the other one know they want the Same Puppy—bonus points if the puppy is beca's animal version and beca wants it because she feels a kinship to it and chloe wants it because it reminds her of beca and she wants to hug it and keep it forever"
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com), where I am always thirsty for one-shot prompts!


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